All posts by AbandontheCube

The Emir's Ark in Bukhara

It was in front of The Ark that Stoddart and Connolly were executed at the Emir’s request in 1842. It had all started innocently enough when Colonel Stoddart was sent to Emir Nasrullah’s domain to reassure him that the British invasion of Afghanistan would not continue into his fair kingdom.  Stoddart arrived with a letter from the governor general of India (rather than the Queen) and, contrary to custom in Bukhara, rode into the castle on horseback rather than walking. These were his two primary offenses to the Emir, who promptly threw him in prison for his disgraceful entrance. This was no ordinary prison, the Zindon prison has a special cell for the worst offenders that is lovingly referred to as the bug pit. This pit is roughly twelve feet deep and only accessible by a rope lowered down through a hole in the center of the ceiling. Into this hole the prison guards gingerly poured daily doses of scorpions, rodents and other vermin. Stoddart was to languish in this pit alone for a year.

In 1841 Captain Conolly traveled to Bukhara to request Stoddart’s release, but, likewise threw the man in prison on trumped up and ridiculous charges.  At least now Stoddart had company in the infamous bug pit of Zindon. Likely the Emir would have let the two languish in the pit indefinitely had the British forces in Afghanistan not been repelled and defeated in 1842.   Believing the British to be a weak nation with an unsuitable army the Emir, nicknamed “the butcher,” paraded Stoddart and Conolly through a large crowd in front of The Ark where they were instructed to dig their own graves, and on June 24th had them executed via beheading to the sounds of drums and reeds.  The Emir’s calculations about the British proved correct as no reprisal for the executions came from the British government.

Having visited The Ark and Zindon, we were shocked at the horrible conditions of the bug pit, but more so by the giant debtor’s prison cell which, at any given time, was completely packed with people owing money to the State. A small museum on the premises showed how the Soviets later used Zindon for political prisoners.

In another part of the city the world’s tallest minaret was erected by Arslan Khan in 1127 called the Kalon Minaret. Having killed an Imam after

a fight, the khan was terrified when the Imam appeared to him in a dream and demanded that his body be buried where no man could walk on it. Thus, the terrified Khan commissioned the minaret. Legend also says that when Ghenghi Khan invaded the region he was so stupefied by the sight of the tower that he had it spared while the rest of the city was burnt to the ground. In later times, this happy and historical minaret was used to execute prisoners, who were tossed over the side into the public square below.

Bukhara

We arrived in Bukhara this afternoon and were a bit shocked by the strange reception we received. Having met the owner of a B&B on the street in Samarkand, we decided to accompany her to her place in Bukhara.  We were going to the city anyway and she was very friendly. This morning she drove past us in a cab, waved when she recognized us and then jumped out and offered to share her taxi to the station.  We were in the middle of negotiating a fare with another cabbie but decided it was wise to just go with her, as it would be quicker.  She talked with the various cabbies on the street a moment and then hurriedly got in the cab.  Once we drove off, she looked over at us and said, “that man said he would kill me.”  We asked what she was talking about and she said, “he said if I took his tourists away (meaning us) he would come to the hotel and kill me.”  It was an odd thing to hear so suddenly so we, naturally, agreed when she followed this up with, “perhaps he crazy. I don’t know. I hope he no follow us to the train station.”  And that was all it took to have me death gripping my bags and looking out the window behind us the whole way to the station.
After arriving in Bukhara safe and un-murdered, we decided to stay with her one night and explore the city. As we were leaving her yard, she ran up and gave us a series of tips that effectively scared us off walking around at night.  Essentially, she told us not to talk to any man in Bukhara because they could not be trusted. Especially a man named Niecco down at Lyabi-Hauz, who had pot marks on his face. Niecco was fond of taking tourists to his house for tea and dinner and then robbing them and beating them silly. Our hostess also explained to us that if we wanted to take a cab anywhere we should use one of her neighbors because every other cabbie was corrupt and would either fight us and steal our money or else cause a scene until we agreed to pay a ridiculous sum to shut him up.  We were informed that the police would be of no help. As she walked us out the door she told us a story of how she had to hide from a murderous cab driver behind a dumpster so he wouldn’t find out where she lived. Fun.   Before you start to wonder where we booked ourselves for the night, her hostel is in the guidebooks and came highly recommended by other backpackers, its full of letters previous visitors have sent her and her young children were climbing the mulberry tree in the courtyard when we walked in. As we set of through the courtyard she yelled after us a final reminder, “Remember, don’t talk to anyone! And, don’t let anyone follow you here!”

Out for the afternoon we encountered no problems and were not particularly worried about running into Niecco or his friends. However, as we walked around The Ark we found that the backside of the building is the hottest spot in Bukhara for junkies. The area is littered with needles and, strangely, lice combs. We also walked past the hood of a car overturned behind this world famous monument completely engulfed in flames. It started to get dark so we set off in the direction of our B&B when I started to notice that all the street lamps were off, looking at the base I noticed that the wires had all been pulled from the poles. It was ‘Uzbekistan’s Children’s Day’ so the streets were teeming with children and ice-cream wrappers, yet the city had an eerie abandoned look because there were no adults, it was as if the children from The Lord of the Flies had built up a massive castle in the desert and were now running around the alleys playing games.

Did I mention that Bukhara is world famous for its torture, prisons and public executions—but that’s another story. Needless to reiterate, our first night in Bukhara was a bit strange.

Ulugh Beg’s Observatory

After taking a walking tour of several mausoleums and the ruins of Ulugh Beg’s (the famous Central Asian astronomer) observatory, we decided to search for the tomb of Daniel as well as an archeological museum around Samarkand. Walking in front of Timur’s family mausoleum, we saw a vast cemetery on the outskirts of Samarkand. Tombstones with engraved images of those buried below stared back at us during the long walk through the desert between Samarkand and the observatory. On the way, we saw caves and holes in the cliffs upholding the cemetery. It was easy to imagine people being put to rest all over the surrounding valleys hundreds of years ago. Long funeral processions probably carried bodies to these ledges by cart or human and paid enormous sums of money to have their loved ones placed on the hill overlooking Samarkand.

After a long walk in the sweltering heat, we arrived at an oasis of sorts, full of trees and shade. At the top of a long row of steps was the remaining wall of Ulugh Beg’s three story observatory, unearthed in 1908. A small museum with records and information about Ulugh Beg and other Central Asian / Middle Eastern mathematicians and astronomers stood on the north end of the hilltop. The only thing remaining of the observatory was the rail upon which the telescope rolled. It was quite impressive, standing at the top observing the curved stone rail with notches of grooves from the top, as well as the ancient stairs leading down into the chamber.

After a while spent admiring the observatory, we took the wrong road north after the observatory and walked an additional 3 km. Once we found the right road, we walked down a nice lane with tree rows planted on the sides and cotton fields spanning out into the distance. On the corner stood the Hazrat-Hizr Mosque, which was built in the 8th century and mistakenly was not facing Mecca. Later, an architect corrected this mistake and has since, been deemed a prophet. Ghenghis Khan burned the mosque, along with several of the cities’ inhabitance, to the ground in the early 13th century as the Mongol hordes made their way West. Down the road, Lauren noticed a small sign marked “mausoleum” in Uzbek. We walked down the long winding road along the banks of the river and discovered a tomb on top of the hill and a natural spring at the base. Several people were washing in the spring and drinking the water. Now, I would have considered taking a drink from Daniel’s spring if I was 100% sure that it was Daniels tomb – I enjoy taking a leap of faith occasionally. However, there are a reported six tombs of Daniel spread throughout the Middle East and Central Asia.

The Bible places Daniel from Daniel and the Lion’s Den, in Babylon – modern day Iraq – at the time of his death. Similar accounts also state that the location of his body is in Susa, as well as two other purported locations in Iraq, and one in Iran. Uzbekistan claims to have the real body of Daniel because a legend states that Timur (Tamerlane), unable to conquer modern day Syria, believed that the body of Daniel was preventing his success. After a successful battle, Timur apparently ordered the body exhumed and brought back to Samarkand for good luck. After burial a natural spring sprouted, which locals claim has healing powers. However, this is simply local lore and I grew even more suspicious as we viewed the tomb marker.  I ducked my head under a doorway and entered an elongated room that contained a 90-foot burial marker. My jaw dropped. The guard then explained that each year the body grows “x” amount. One person told us, 2 inches a year. If this were the case, the body would be more than 2000 inches long, which would be much longer than the marker. I have attached the picture of the tomb and I am curious to hear comments on peoples’ belief or non-belief of this miracle or mockery, depending on your perspective.

The Tomb of Timur

Down the street past the Registan, near a huge monument of Tamerlane, sits the Guri Amir Mausoleum. The mausoleum was a huge complex with a domed roof. As we approached, the entry arch of the mausoleum was under “restoration.” This consisted of locals hammering away at the mosaic and tiled facades of the archway with chisels. Pieces of fired and kilned tile were falling thirty feet to the ground and shattering. I am not sure when the last restoration occurred, possibly after the great earthquake in the early 20th century, or perhaps they were very old. With history much longer than Americans can sympathize with, it is difficult to choose what is better for these sites: allow them to decay, but maintain their antiquity, or keep them restored in a state of what they were once believed to look like.

Either way, Tamerlane is the heroic icon of Central Asia, but a villain throughout most of the Arab world and parts of India. Creating a huge empire that stretched from near Kashgar (in Western China) to Turkey, the Caucasus, Iraq and Pakistan, Tamerlane was feared throughout the region. Using vicious propaganda campaigns and disseminating information in target cities to bring down moral before his arrival, Tamerlane was a great planner. He organized his campaigns years in advance – enough so that he planted barley for his horses 2 years before the campaign all along the routes to victory. In an unusual winter campaign, Tamerlane died of fever and plague in the farthest reaches of the Syr-Daria in 1404. He was campaigning to attach the Chinese Ming Dynasty and many historians argue that East Asia may have been a very different place (Muslim) had Tamerlane not died in this winter campaign.

Statue of Amir Timur

Although remembered in Iraq for erecting pyramids of 40,000 and 70,000 human skulls, Tamerlane rests a hero in the Guri Amir Mausoleum. Buried with several of his sons and grandsons, as well as his teacher (another descendent of the Prophet Mohammed), beautiful marble tomb markers fill the domed room of the mausoleum. Timur’s (Tamerlane) sarcophagus was once split in half by a Persian king who invaded several centuries after his death. The king’s son fell deathly ill and religious interpreters and sorcerers advised that the king return Timur to his rightful resting place. Soon after, the kings son healed, but the casket was in two pieces after being damaged enroot. A Soviet anthropologist, Mikhail Gerasimov exhumed the body of Tamerlane in 1941 and confirmed that Tamerlane may have been a decedent of Ghengis Khan because of several of his Mongol features. Tamerlane was 5’8’’ (tall for his time) and suffered a lame hip so he more than likely walked with a limp. After opening the tomb Gerasimov discovered an inscription on the tomb, “Whomsoever opens my tomb shall unleash an invader more terrible than I.” Only a few hours later, the Nazi Army launched its invasion of the Soviet Union.

Across Central Asia we’ve noticed that plastic bottles play an important role in everyday life once drained of their liquid contents. Here are a few uses we’ve witnessed.

1.  As a scooper for rice, spices, or any other scoop-able commodity in the old town street vendors. Witnessed: Tashkent Old Town, Uzbekistan

Plastic Bottle Scooper

2.  Cut in half and used as a vase for flowers. Witnessed: Almaty, Kazakhstan

3.  Used as a stopper for an automatic watering system. Witnesses, Tashkent, Timur Park, Uzbekistan.

Sprinkler System Water Bottle

4.  Snugly fit over a dripping air conditioner pipe to collect condensation. Witnessed: Old Town, Tashkent, Uzbekistan

5.  Cut in half, using the top half turned upside down as a mini green house for seeds to germinate. Witnessed, Almaty, Kazakhstan

6.  Cut into strips and painted to make noiseless wind chimes. Witnessed: Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan

7.  Cut off the bottom, then cut the remainder diagonally and use the top end as a handle, use the sharp diagonal opposing end to scrape gum off the street. Witnessed: Urumqi, Xinjiang

8.  Save bottles, strip labels and reuse when selling curded milk, yoghurt, pomegranate juice or other local favorites. Witnessed: Tashkent, Uzbekistan

Reused Bottles in Uzbekistan

9.  Cut the entire bottle away except the plastic screw-on lid and about an inch of plastic down from there. Turn upside down and use to hold toothpicks at the restaurant. Witnessed: Samarkand, Uzbekistan

10.  Cut off end of bottle neck, affix entire plump bottom end to long stick. Use stick with bottle taped to the end to smack on donkey’s ass to make him go faster. Louder than a stick but injures the animal less. Witnessed: Tashkurgan, Xinjiang

When traveling you get to met people from every walk of life with all kinds of beliefs ranging from the mundane to the insane.  In Samarkand one evening, Mike and I were sitting on the benches in front of the Registan people watching. We watched dozens of people try to sneak in without paying, all but two were caught by the guards. While we were watching an eight year old boy and his two friends walked by, the most flamboyant of them walked past, stared at me and said, “hello, baby!” We burst out laughing, but the boy was not amused, he took a seat next to Mike and proceeded to talk to him in Jar-Jar Binks tones, not saying anything but rather making noise, all the while he winked and nodded his chin at me.

In Kashgar, Xinjiang we were sitting in the courtyard enjoying the local tea when a very sick looking French man approached us and reported that he was recently quarantined in a hospital for people with suspicious illnesses. He then stuck out his hand for us to shake.

In the tomb of Tamerlane in Samarkand I was sitting alone in the corner trying to ease drop on a local woman giving a guided tour to an elderly man in English. A young girl came up to the old man and asked where he was from, whereupon he launched into the following: “I’m from a tiny island called Britian. We are a monarchy, our queen is the only queen and she rules many countries.” The little girl walked away and I burst out laughing again while the Uzbek guide glared at me.

In Urumqi we were taking a break in the hostel one rainy afternoon and put in a DVD while we were doing some writing. A young man traveling from Israel sat down to watch with us. We were watching, ‘Charlie Wilson’s War.’ At the end the man asked what we thought of American policy back then.

In Kashgar we were sitting at John’s Café after arriving, having starved on the train for want of variety. We encountered two Australians eating alone who invited us to join them. Conversation twisted and turned, but throughout we discovered that the two Aussies had travelled the globe in the 40 years on the planet, including 3 separate excursions to Antarctica.

Walking down the streets of Samarkand a local with all gold teeth approached us and said, “hey guys, where ya from?” We were so shocked to hear English with an African American accent come from this man that we stopped dead in our tracks. He looked straight at Mike and said, “yeah man, I used to live in New York, I drove a Cadillac. P.I.M.P, man…. Yeah, I had lots of black friends.” He actually spelled out pimp. Here is the clincher- he is the city’s foremost English instructor. Perhaps he taught the eight year old to greet women with a feisty “hello baby!” and a wink.
Also in Samarkand we met two Spaniards biking from Spain to south-east Asia by land. These interesting folks had really seen the countryside, the cities and were doing an A-rate, year-long trip. There is no funny story here, but this folks were just plain fun to talk to and hang out with. They had met an Italian economist who we spent dinner with the following night, another very interesting fellow.

Sitting at the hostel for breakfast one morning we met a man of about 27-29 who was living in Samarkand for a year cataloging the archives at the regional museum. He spoke Uzbek, Russian, English and could read Arabic and Persian. He was the most quintessentially British person I’d ever met, because although it was 90 degrees outside he was wearing a button-down shirt and a sweater vest.

We have met several other, very interesting people on the trip so far, this is just a taste of the type of people one encounters when traveling the world. Its amazing the stories we hear and the lives some people lead and these are the moments that make one realize that our lives are so much more than everybody’s quest for life insurance and a good job.

Scarab

Since arriving in Uzbekistan we have seen an inordinate about of insects of every shape, variety and color. In Tashkent, upon walking into the hotel, Mike was greeted by the most horrible sounds of my loudest shrieks. I had, naturally, found a large, black spider crawling across an otherwise white wall. This spider was no ordinary creature, for it looked up at me as if to say, “hold down the noise, lady!” and then blinked.

In Samarkand I was shocked to discover a distant cousin of the creature in Tashkent. Think back to your childhood and the conclusion to the epic tale “Charlotte’s Web” when Charlotte’s millions of children climb up a wooden fence post, shoot a string of web and then fly off into the sunset to propagate. This is a common occurrence in Samarkand. Not once, but on three separate occasions I saw a spider fly past me with a death grip on a bit of web. One stuck out its fury leg and waved as it flew past my head. Mike thinks I exaggerate, but I’m happy to live in my little world of hyperbole. Regardless, it is not inaccurate to say that Samarkand has flying spiders.

After a scorching walk through the ruins of Afrosiab we decided to rest for a while at the Hazrat-Hizr Mosque overlooking the city. From here you can see the ruins of the Registan, as well as those of Bibi-Khanym’s Mosque and mausoleum. It is, without a doubt, the best view in Samarkand, but I was distracted by giant, spider-like ants. Since you’ll think I’m exaggerating, I’ll provide you with pictorial evidence. These giant ant’s back legs would shoot out like a spiders, allowing them to propel themselves at incredible speed and survive jumps of up to 1000 times its height. I know because I kicked one off a step and it landed, looked back at me to stick up its middle leg and then ran off down the steps leaping off each one and landing mid step, ready to leap again.

After the mosque we walked to the burial site of the Old Testament prophet Daniel (who was unfortunate enough to be thrown to the lions in Babylon at one point). Supposedly Daniel’s body grows at a rate of two inches a year, so the kindly Uzbeks have provided him with a sarcophagus that is about 9 yards long and one yard across. But I digress, at the ridiculously long sarcophagus I saw one of the most exciting/disgusting things on the planet. We had just come out from measuring the resting place of Daniel when we found a rock path leading up into the hills, we followed it to see what there was to be seen from the top. Here is what lies at the top of this holy hill, readers beware that the faint should not read on:

I saw something resembling a trilobite resting in a tiny hole in the side of a bank. I went to poke it with a pen, thinking, “Oh my God, I found a fossil!” But, when I poked it and turned it over I discovered it was a giant, recently deceased beetle being devoured from the inside out by the crazy ant-spiders I mentioned above. I did a “Gross! Gross! Gross!” dance before taking a few pictures for you. Does this beetle not look like the scarabs from ‘The Mummy’ that ate humans alive? Because when my face was 5 inches away to take these pictures that was the only thought coursing through my brain.

After a long day of adventuring around Samarkand we returned to the hotel where Mike reported to me that he had found a daddy long legs in the bathroom and was watching him hang out under the sink. Perhaps all these bugs are only interesting to me because in one year of living in Shanghai I now realize I did not see a single insect other than flies and mosquitoes- as it should be!

The Registan

Our first day in Samarkand left us spell bound and awe-struck. There is no exaggerating this place, because exaggerations are impossible here. Our train from Tashkent left at 7:00:01 on the spot and arrived in Samarkand at exactly 10:30:19am. This was the shortest train ride we’d had on the trip so far, but the one that yielded the most drastic difference from departure to arrival. At the Samarkand station we easily found a local driver to take us to the B&B we picked online called Bahodir B&B, Bahodir himself met us at the door and, after a round of handshakes and bows, directed us to his nicest room for $20USD a day including breakfast and all the tea we could consume. Our room had a double bed and two single beds, a small wooden table, perhaps built by Jesus himself it is so old, and a tiled bathroom with a toilet and a sink which has an extension so you can hold out a rod and shower under it. It is much more than we expected and when we discovered the grape-vine shaded courtyard we were ecstatic about the find. The Lonely Planet does not recommend this place, but we beg to differ. For starters, it is located within spitting distance of the Registan, Samarkand’s biggest attraction and, according to locals, the only reason people come to Central Asia.

The Registan is a three building complex which was built between 1417 and 1660. The Ulugbek Medressa is the oldest of the three structures and was completed in 1420 as a school where Ulugbek himself was rumored to have taught mathematics. In 1636 the Emir Yalangtush completed the Lion Medressa, which is opposite Ulugbek’s and world renowned for the lion image on the front façade. In between these two is the Tilla-Karri Medressa completed in 1660 and famous for its gold-topped mosque.

We walked around the Registan in awe, not only because of the amazing architecture, creative and dazzling designs and unending variety, but because of when it was built and how well it has stood the test of time. A woman selling tickets told us it was 7,000 CYM a person to enter, but for locals the price is 600 CYM. We decided not to go in, as it was crowded and, we thought, a bit pricy. Instead, we strolled all around the complex. A guard came up to us and offered to take us to the summit of one of the mighty pillars if we returned at 6pm for 3000 CYM.

We left the Registan without entering, and decided to grab a bite with a view nearby. At a highly recommended eatery we had lamb kebab and bread. Afterwards we walked in 90 degree heat with no itinerary in mind. We strolled aimlessly past the art museum and down Tashkent Road, which ended up being the best place to be. We went into a mosque and then into a bazaar, afterwards we strolled down a large hill to the Shah-I-Zinda Mausoleums. This was the second most astonishing thing I’d seen on the entire trip, after the Registan that is. While the whole complex was rebuilt very controversially in 2005, I found it a delight to see. Here is why I do not disagree with their renovation. For starters, if things were not maintained or renovated they would deteriorate entirely, and though a history major and a history buff, I feel that preservation in the West means alienating a thing and trying to protect it from the natural decays caused by gravity and weather. Out here, history is still alive. The restorations done in 2005 are no different than repairs made to the Coliseum while it was still in use. Locals respect and adore their history and culture and want to keep it alive, lively and worthy of the fame it already has. The restoration artists retained before and after pictures of the complex and, for the most part, stayed true to the original designs, structure layout and floor plan.
We walked up adobe stairs and into several mausoleums with markers for where the tombs are located. The exterior of the mausoleums are covered in intricate patterns using blue, teal and white tiles forming designs, flowers, and images of the sun. The interior was usually simple brick with an even more simple white marker bearing no script or indication of who lies beneath. Each mausoleum had its own collection of pigeons jealously guarding their territory. One would think that such beauty and intricacy would become dull over time, but this is not true. My eyes watered from strain, but could not look away. We went in every room, climbed every set of stairs and even walked behind every structure. The complex is set on a hillside where thousands of others are buried with simple marble markers overlooking the complex. Each tombstone of black shiny marble in the surrounding cemetery has an etched carving of the person beneath it wearing their finest clothing, and it is a bit eerie to walk around seeing faces you know are beneath your feet.

The complex houses one of the most religious places in Sunni Islam, the burial site of the Living King, the grave of Qusam ibn-Abbas, a cousin of Muhammad who supposedly brought Islam to the area in the 7th century. While there, we watched a local woman prostrate herself in his attached prayer hall. At 5:00pm we were still in the complex and heard the men chanting their prayers and watched them gather in the entry halls.
While we were advised to dress conservatively and for me to wear a head covering, once in the complex we discovered none of the locals cared. My head was uncovered and no one glared or gave strange sidelong glances. In fact, as we were leaving several Muslim women approached and asked if we would take a picture with them. Three women crowded around me and held my arms so tight they left white knuckle prints on my sun burnt skin. They were incredibly friendly. Unfortunately my camera is like Blade’s sword, only I know how to use it, so I could not get their friend to take a picture with my camera. Nevertheless, it is a happy memory I’ll retain just as vividly in my mind.

Back at the B&B we chatted with two men from Barcelona (the day after the Manchester United – Barcelona game on the 28th of May) who were riding their bikes around the world. They left four months ago and have eight more months before they return home. They were an interesting duo. As they were headed for China and we are headed, eventually, to Azerbaijan, we did a quick money transfer with them at the B&B, which proved to be much easier than getting rid of RMB anywhere else in Central Asia.

Black Market Exhange.

You can change USD to any currency in Central Asia. The Dollar is still truly king here and surprisingly, Euros have not quite caught on yet. You cannot change Chinese RMB (or any currency other than USD, Yen, Euros and in some places Korean coin) in Uzbekistan and there are only Visa ATMs, which are often empty and will not work after 4:00pm. In Uzbekistan, there are two exchange rates: the official rate (which, at the time of writing was 1422 CYM to the dollar) and the unofficial rate (around 1800 CYM to the USD). You can get the unofficial rate by asking anyone in Tashkent to change money for you or by using USD when you buy things. We would recommend changing your USD and then use CYM at the official rate of 1400 or 1500.

Here is how we arrived at the aforementioned information. We carried a small amount of Chinese RMB into Kazakhstan, where we had no problem changing the currency at the Almaty-2 train station upon arrival. Kazaks took the RMB like it was the Dollar. We spent all of our Kazakh Tenge in Kazakhstan but had a bit more Chinese RMB in pocket, which we decided to convert in Uzbekistan before drawing USD from an ATM. Previous to departure, I checked that my Chinese Union Pay card would work throughout Central Asia, and it was accepted. However, not surprisingly, by the time we reached Central Asia a month later, we found that Union Pay is only accepted in Kazakhstan and then next place we will be able to use it is Turkey. Therefore, we highly recommend traveling with cash or a Visa card.

We arrived in Tashkent, Uzbekistan at 5:30am on the train and discovered no money changing office at the station. This meant we had no local money for a cab or a bus, so we set off with our 80lb packs to the hotel on foot. All along the way we spotted exchange offices that would convert the currencies mentioned in the above paragraph, but not RMB. I walked 10km in search of an ATM to use my Chinese card to no avail. I even went to the Chinese embassy in Tashkent and asked someone how they got their money out. Like typical Chinese government officials, he was not helpful and simply walked away saying, “I don’t know.”

We met a friendly local who offered to help us change the now useless RMB for CYM, but this proved futile after several days of waiting around, phone calls and promises to meet his Chinese friend. Eventually, we gave our RMB to a friend who was heading East in hopes that he could change it in Kyrgyzstan and wire us the USD. USDs are awesome here, but I can’t reiterate enough, as much as they say China is involved in the New Great Game in Central Asia, they have literally no economic presence. Don’t leave Kazakhstan with RMB. This was one of those situations that you never think would become a problem, but it was numero uno for about 5 days until we figured out a solution. Luckily, we had some great friends to stay with and found some friendly locals to help us out.

Sponsor me?

The Apple i-touch, like many other Apple inventions, is an amazing piece of hardware. I’m borrowing one for the next twenty days and have become an apple accessory convert in the five days I’ve had an i-touch on the road. Here is why it is the ideal travel accessory:

1. Lightweight and compact, yet versatile. For a traveler, the biggest constraints are weight and space. The Apple i-touch weighs less than a pound and fits in the palm of your hand. Meanwhile, it can access wireless when available, and has all of the major applications of a regular computer.

Unit converter. This makes traveling through multiple countries and handling several currencies much easier. Meanwhile, this helps when talking with people who do not know the conversions for metric to imperial measurements or Celsius and Fahrenheit.

Programmable world clock. With friends and family all over the world, this handy tool tells me what time it is in every major city where I have contacts. I’ll never wake up grandma at 2:00am again!

Notepad. For the travel blogger, the notepad on the i-touch helps me organize and retain quick thoughts for blog posts or other ideas. I also use it as a reminder for things. Reminder- do not drink local water.

Weather. This is useful in the morning when deciding what to wear for the day, its also just fun to watch in the desert as it escalates into the hundreds (Fahrenheit).

Games. For the by-ground traveler the game applications (downloadable) on the i-touch are an amazing way to pass time. I’m especially fond of ‘Brick 3D’ and the ‘Flags’ applications. I’ve learned every flag from every country in the world on this trip thanks to the later game, beware bar trivia, here I come!

Organization. The i-touch also had a calendar, for planning your next move or keeping track of when each visa expires. It can also store upcoming birthdays, holidays and other events so the far-wandering traveler isn’t missing little Timmy’s birthday back home or planning to visit a mosque on a Muslim holiday.

Music and Pictures. While these two drain the battery quickly, its nice to have music in the palm of your hand as well as pictures of family and friends to browse through when feeling homesick.

Calculator. Traveling through multiple countries means multiple languages. When buying things its essential to have a calculator if you are not fluent. The calculator on the i-touch is quick to launch and easy to use, on the down side if you flash hardware as nifty as this people will assume you have cash to burn.

Email. With its wireless capabilities, the i-touch can access your email as soon as it detects a connection. This is quicker and easier than logging into a computer or waiting, god forbid, for Vista to start just to see if you have any high-priority emails.

In all, this handy little gadget rates a 9.5 on my electronics scale, of which everything else ranks about a 6.0. The only down side is that the battery drains quickly, which is not great for a traveler who often has long stretches between outlets. However, the fact that it can charge from the laptop is a nice bonus.

I have decided to acquire an i-touch. If anyone at Apple is reading this and wants to sponsor me with an i-touch for blogging, I’d be happy to accept! I’d also like an apple laptop someday, but that’s another story all together.

Medrassa bazaar

We were fortunate enough to spend seven full days in Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan, staying at the Grand Orzu hotel near the center of activity. Within walking distance to the train station as well as the metro, we were in the prime location to experience the city. While we saw and experienced many things in and around Tashkent, here are the highlights:

The regional museum. Shaped like a giant crown, this museum located on the fringes of Amir Timur park is well worth a visit. After buying your ticket (3,000 CYM) head up the stairs into the main room for a fantastic view of a three story mural, a tiled ceiling and giant chandelier and a Koran from 7^th (Islamic) century. From here you can climb two more floors of relics from around the country, maps, pictures, gifts from foreign dignitaries and models of all of Uzbekistan’s major buildings. After the museum, check out the giant statue of Amir Timur on horseback. Some time ago someone stole his horses’ family jewels, check this out.

Seattle Peace Park. Here you can go to the tiny zoo (rabbits, turtles and a misplaced ostrich) or ride bumper cars, shoot counter-strike guns full of tennis balls or ride a row boat. Don’t skip it because it sounds cheesy, that’s all the more reason to go!

Broadway. This used to be a lively and active street until the president visited and disliked what he saw. Now it is calmer, but in the afternoon heat stroll down to see the artists put their finest canvas on display.

Medrassa bazaar.

A converted former medrassa now houses craftsmen as they work their trades in woodwork, tile work, silks and especially tiny jewelry boxes hand painted in gold and bright Central Asian colors and designs.

Old Town. We walked around the bazaar and then back behind the main selling area before coming to a building resembling a small leaning tower of Pisa. Behind the bazaar we met two boys throwing bits of carcass into the back of a van.

Nipon park. This Japanese park near the Inter Continental hotel looked amazing, but it was closed when we showed up so we simply played with some nearby mallards before jumping the subway. Looks like a classy place, but its 4,000 CYM to get in.

Metro. The Tashkent metro is well known because each station is different and it was original designed as a series of conveniently placed bomb shelters. While the place is swarming with guards and we hear photography is forbidden, it was still fun to ride around (we used it to tour the city on two separate occasions) and easy to use.

Chess in Tashkent

“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” –Lao Tzu

“Half the fun of travel is the esthetic of lostness.” –Ray Bradbury

“I dislike feeling at home when I am abroad.” –George Bernard

“I have found that there ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” – Mark Twain

“I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine.” – Caskie Stinnett

“I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to go.” – Robert Louis

“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay home.” –James Michener

“No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.” – Lin Yutang

Journal Keeping

“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.” –St. Augustine

“The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he came to see.” –G.K. Chesterton

“To get away from one’s working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one’s self; and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change.” – Charles Horton

“To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.” –Aldous Huxley

“Too often travel, instead of broadening the mind, merely lengthens the conversation.” –Elizabeth Drew

“Wandering re-established the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.” -Anatole France

“We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.” –Hilaire Belloc

Having lived in Shanghai for over a year, I thought I had experienced a truly versatile and adept cuisine culture. While Shanghai has a bit more to offer in the way of bulk variety, Tashkent is a city seething with diverse foods at affordable prices that far exceed international expectations. If you are ever so lucky as to find yourself in Tashkent, here are some of the wonderful restaurants we were introduced to by an expat who had spent considerable time living in the city and knew all the best places to dine.

Bistro

: This tasty pizzeria is nestled away from the street and houses an outdoor courtyard as well as a tented area. The kitchen consists of a large pizza oven and a counter where three young men help each other compile your pizza. Pizzas are about 11,000 CYM. They also do pasta very well, and don’t leave without trying the bread sticks.

Omar Kayane: This Lebanese/Mexican restaurant sports local decor, chicanas, hookahs and a diverse menu of specialties. Named after a famous poet, the place has all the spice and flare of a hopeless romantic. Formerly a Mexican restaurant, the new owners kept several favorites on their menu. Try the Potato skins. From the Lebanese section, the kebabs are highly praised, and the fatush, hummus and spinach wraps were amazing.

Caravan: Though a bit expensive, the decorations make this place a must-see. They have life shows some nights and late in the evening the interior dining area becomes a lively beer hall.

Chelsea Arms: This may be the single most overpriced pub on the planet. They deceptively charge in Euros, making each half liter of brew about ten-twelve dollars. Bring Prozac or an inhaler for when your bill arrives. If you have free cash to throw away, however, the interior is worth visiting for its authentic British feel, and it’s a marvel that someone managed to transport the items in the bar to the middle of Uzbekistan.

El Dolphin (from the guide book)This place was highly recommended by the Lonely Planet, and perhaps because of this the prices were quite high for what was delivered. However, the food was very good, we had the hummus, falafel, chicken , and a margarita pizza for about 40 USD. The décor is startlingly bad, but if you can force yourself to have a bit of faith you may be surprised.

City Grill:

At this hard-to-find grill we had the best meal I’ve ever had in a restaurant abroad. The grilled vegetables are fantastic, as is the filet-minion, T-bone, bone steak, ravioli, bread sticks and soup. As you can tell from the items we’ve sampled, we went more than once. The prices are surprisingly spot-on, and it’s a great place to sojourn. Try everything.

The Czech pub: This place had a diverse menu of Czech foods as well as an on-site brewery that produced sharp and interesting ales, pilsners and heffeweissens. Order the pickled cucumbers, the soups, bread basket and a few beers. Moderately priced with great décor, friendly staff and a endless menu options.

Soviet Chair Lift

We left mid morning for the lake, in Tashkent province, about an hour and a half north-east of the capital. The drive was peaceful and from the SUV we watched women sell their morning’s fruit harvest as old men and boys continued harvesting behind them in the fields. We passed through several small towns with large cathedrals, mosques and an abundance of butcher shops (comically called a ‘go-shit’ in Russian).

The protected area includes a lake at the center surrounded by rolling green hills with mountains in the distance. The lake was created when the river, which originates in Kyrgyzstan, was dammed. Thousands of people live in the area selling their harvests or living off the small tourism industry.

On the winding roads through the park we were occasionally surprised as children (average age of about eight) would jump out of the tall grass surrounding the road to wave purple and yellow bouquets of wild flowers at the car. At several large bends in the road women had congregated to sell their goods, and it was at once such bend that we found a young businesswomen selling burnt-sugar peanuts. These were easily the best snack I’ve ever had and she was the best bargainer I’ve ever encountered.

We stopped the car often to jump out and admire the view, which changed so drastically with ever turn in the road that it was almost like a new drive began every few minutes. Finally, after my eyes were so overloaded with beauty and newness that they felt strained, we pulled off the road to an old Soviet-era chairlift that went up the side of a large hill and into the snowy mountains. It was ill maintained but functional, and as we watched for several minutes not one car detached itself and fell to the jagged rocks below.

We went through the cattle wire to the ticket booth and bought a ticket each for about 2USD round trip. The chair lift was set up as a two-seater deal where it was obvious that each seat on the contraption had been replaced or reattached at some point or another. My chair set, for example, had one blue chair with no arm rest and one yellow one with rust discoloration. Under the chair, before one did a quick prayer and sat in the lift, there was painted two sets of footprints, the one on the inside larger than that of the outside. I sat on the outside, as I’m smaller, and when I sat down the chair swung in towards oncoming traffic- aka, those who had made it up and were now death-gripping their chairs on the way down. As the chair lifted off (not so gracefully, I might add) the chair attendant gave a surprised but jolly wave and cheer. The lift took around ten minutes from bottom to top, and as I am writing this I obviously lived through the adventure. At the top a large burley man who smelled of beer and lamb pulled me from the chair so forcefully my feet didn’t touch the ground until he let go well out of striking range of the pendulum-like chair. The attendant and his friend/co-worker/man drinking in the corner laughed at each other when they saw our petrified smiles.

The summit was beautiful and well worth the harrowing ride. Within seconds of summiting it began to snow and I donned my fleece and scarf. Previous pilgrims who had survived the Soviet chair lift had ripped pieces of fabric from their shirts and, with a prayer of thanks, tied the fabric to the fence at the summit. I felt compelled to do likewise but decided not to tempt fate- I’d tie on a thank-you at the base once I’d made it safely back down. Mama didn’t raise no fool!

After a tour of the summit we descended (much less terrifying) and drove down the hill a ways. From the summit we had seen a plane which, from our vantage point, looked to have crashed nearby. We drove down a bumpy dirt road to find the plane, which turned out to be an Aeroflot (I’ve always felt they were an unsafe fleet) plane surrounded by weeds and trees but guarded by a house and warehouse nearby. I still have no idea what the plane was there for, or, more puzzlingly, how it arrived in that position. It sure did not land there, and it could not have driven down the bumpy road.

We then drove to the lake where we walked down and stuck a toe or finger each into the icy water. We discovered a floating rock, which I stabbed with my knife to discover was actually a floating piece of filthy bread. We drove around the lake and stopped again at a high point before the dam, overlooking the entire lake and beyond. We climbed up into the rocks and gazed out at the truly beautiful green hills, jagged mountains and herds of goats, cheep, donkey and cows.

Driving now above the dam we stopped at a small café called the Golden Deer in Russian. We parked and sat in a local-style booth. No sooner had we sat down than every man, woman and child in the restaurant and outdoor café ran into the street to watch two young men drag race their cars up and down the strip of curved road where everyone had parked their cars. The boys peeled out, gained speed then slammed on the brake and e-braked as they threw the wheel into a firm 180. The crowd cheered them on while we sat in our outdoor booth wondering if they would smash into our car. This went on for half an hour. Meanwhile, we had ordered two Big Macs, which were on the menu in Cyrillic. How they heard of a Big Mac out there is beyond me. It was a double-decker hamburger with mayo. Copyright laws need not apply. This was also the site of several scenes which caused me to utter sentences that should not be said aloud, including, “That man is combing his stomach hair” and “Now he is playing with his mullet.”

Back in the car we drove around the dam (surrounded by guards) before heading back to the capital. It had been an adventurous, harrowing, peaceful and puzzling trip into the Tashkent countryside.

Yarkand Blacksmith in Old Town

Although our time was limited, I did not want to leave out our day trip from Kashgar to Yarkand. Albeit a late entry, Yarkand was a significant city and part of the southern silk road pass around the Taklimakan desert. We purchased tickets at the long distance bus station in Kashgar for the 3 1/2 hour ride to Yarkand on the outskirts of the Taklimakan Desert. This bus drove around Kashgar for over an hour looking for people for the one-way trip through the scorching desert basin between Kashgar and Yarkand. Rumbling along while listening to Chinese and Uyghur songs on repeat, we were surprised to see that the railroad was being extended from Kashgar to Yarkand. Migrant workers were digging up the desert in preparation for laying the rails.

I checked Marco Polo’s description of Yarkand and it was, like several other entries…brief. The most memorable statement he noted about Yarkand was that he was surprised by the large population suffering from goiter (a swelling of the Thyroid caused by a lack of iodine in the diet). I did not notice any issues several hundred years later as surprisingly, Yarkand looks similar to other modernized Chinese cities. As we pulled into the bus station, I was hoping to see rolling sand dunes and bazaars, but was disappointed as I saw paved roads and cars. Instead, Yarkhand was a moderately well-developed Chinese city. More than half of the population was Han Chinese and there was a large PLA (People’s Liberation Army) base in the North central part of town.

Yarkand can easily be seen in about one day. The gem of the city is the central mosque, which is located right next to the Old Town. There was more starring going on here than other places we had been recently and it was not surprising that these people didn’t see too many foreigners coming through. After seeing the parts of Old Town in Kashgar destroyed, it was refreshing to see that it will live on in Yarkand. Around the corner from the Mosque, there was a thriving Old Town bazaar. One can see rows of blacksmiths fashioning metal tools, furniture, birdhouses, and a variety of goods; most of this done in a way similar to several hundred years ago. Not much has changed since in this part of town.

Our return bus ride somehow took 5 hours, making it a pretty long day trip, but I would highly recommend going to Yarkand – especially if you appreciate the bazaar and the Old Town of Kashgar. Maybe one day we will return and cross the entire southern route of the Silk Road around the Taklamakan. Perhaps we may return through Kyrgyzstan or Tajikistan.

Lamb kebabs – Urumqi, Xinjiang. Urumqi has an amazing night market near the park with beer, kebabs, nan, plov and other Central Asian treats.

Pizza – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. There is a locally owned Pizza cafe called Bistro in Tashkent with amazing pizza, good beer and outdoor seating.

Coffee – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This is on the list at everyone else’s request as I don’t drink coffee. Cafe Jum is the best spot in Central Asia for an espresso.

Spiced Tea – Kashgar, Xinjiang. We ran into a man mixing tea in buckets by the mosque in Old Town. Amazing spices and knock-you-out tea.

Nan – Almaty, Kazakhstan. This is, by far, the best bread I’ve ever head, and it is totally different from Xinjiang nan.

Battered califlower – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Steamed, and then battered and fried. Creative and savory.

Fatush – Tashkent, Uzbekistan. This Lebbonese salad is a mix of tomato, califlower, tortilla and vinigar. Amazing.

Donar Kebab – Almaty, Kazakhstan. The best donar this side of the Tian Shan.

Goat milk yoghurt – Kashgar, Xinjiang. Mixed with sugar and served ice cold.

1. A marijuana plant growing on the side of the road in Tashkent, Uzbekistan.

Uzbek lake

2. Multiple people on the train shaking the border guards hands full of money to avoid having their bags searched in Kazakhstan.

3. Illegal money traders on every train in every country so far.

4. Kazakh guards patting Mike down for money, official theft.

5. Elderly man on Kazakh train with drugs taped to his stomach.

Honorable mentions:

6. Everyone driving in Central Asia is breaking a multitude of laws every second on the road.

7. Kazakh woman transporting goods illegal from China using our train cabin.

8. Racing cars down a public road in Uzbekistan, using the e-brake to pull 180s.

Naturally, some of you are wondering how we can afford to be unemployed and yet pay for train tickets all over the continent. Here is how I afford my share of the travel expenses. Mike has saved for over a year to pay for his half while I saved less and am working from the road.

I have one writing contract, which I acquired in the summer of 2008, which pays around $500USD a month. I have a good working relationship for the company, and because of my tenure with them, and because I turn in assignments on time and with additional features, I am confident the relationship will continue indefinitely. However, I have a contract which stipulates a one month notice should they terminate, giving me one month to find another contract should this one expire.

I also do a bit of travel writing for an online travel and trip planning company. I work on an assignment basis which produces an average of $150USD an assignment (roughly every other month). More importantly, this is a link for me to build new contacts and a gateway to future contracts.

I have also been writing, on a by-article basis for an online magazine, which pays a confidential amount per article and is based in Thailand. My relationship with this company is great, and they love that some of their writers are also on-the-road travelers.

In addition to this, I am a frequent visitor to various online writer’s boards where companies pay by the article or by the word for content on various topics. Because of competition and constant undercutting, many writers do not get paid as well as I do. I work to cultivate working relationships with people at each company to ensure my stability with them, but also because a writer is more than the content they produce.

In addition to the above, between March – April of this year I earned a 100 hour TOFEL certificate which will enable me to teach in any country in the world for profit. Should we run into financial troubles or decide to settle in a place for a while, this will be an additional source of income.

Thus, while I am not making a fortune right now, I am breaking even and traveling the world, which is more than I could have asked for. I do have some University loans that cost me about $200 USD per month to maintain, but I put away savings expressly for this purpose beginning in early 2008 so that I would not have to worry about my loans until the summer of 2010.

After sleeping in the Almaty-1 train station we boarded our first Kazakh train at 5:12am bound for Tashkent, Uzbekistan. The train arrived a bit early and no one knew which car or cabin we were meant to be in, and in our limited (ok, non-existent) Russian we had a bit of trouble finding our births. Once situated in car number 9 we discovered we were meant to be in bunks 13 and 16. A very old, very sickly man who was thinner than a pencil and paler than paper was sleeping fitfully in my bunk while a giant, fecal-covered bag was resting on Mike’s bunk. The train attendant/scariest looking man on the planet approached us and heaved the heavy bag up over his head and threw it atop the birth above ours and ordered us up into two bunks. He came back five minutes later and demanded 700T from us to buy sheets for the bunks. I doubt anyone else paid but seeing as he was the largest shirtless Russian we’d ever seen we forked over the money (we later learned everyone did indeed pay for their sheets).

I’ll pause here to describe the train. Once in car 9 we were met with the most pungent aroma of vomit, human sweat, excrement and burnt hair. The smell was so string it made the skin around my eyes itch. The interior was paneled in fake wooden siding with bunks 2 high with a third bunk for baggage. Nowhere were there safety rails or hand grips. The tiny isle held additional bunks which doubled as benches. The bathroom was a tiny room with a stainless steel western toilet that was so stained and textured from years of use that it looked like a rusty old ship port hole.

Somehow, and probably because we had not really slept in the train station the night before, we fell asleep in our tiny bunks (so thin in width that you had to lay on your side or you’d roll onto the floor and get hepatitis. Throughout the night we made long stops in the middle of nowhere, literally the train would stop in a field and then, at random, take off again. By 8am the lights were flicked on and we rolled into a station for a brief stop only to discover that we had only gone about 20 miles down the tracks. Amazed, Mike set off to ask someone when we arrived in Tashkent. We had heard that it was a 12 hour ride, but that turned out only to have been true several years ago. Instead of arriving 12 hours later at 5pm we found out we would arrive 24 hours later at 4am the next day. We had no food, only a little bit of money in Tenge and the smell of vomit was making us nauseous.

Around late morning we made a stop and watched as everyone looking out the window panicked and dashed into their bunks. Even the sick old man pretended to be asleep. Several guards in elaborate uniforms got on board and talked briefly with the giant train attendant/giant before marching straight up to us. “Passport! Declaration.” We showed him our passports and he forcibly took mine out of my death grip on it and rushed down the isle. We could not both chase after him and leave all our bags, so Mike followed him. What ensued turns out to be a common occurrence on Kazakh trains. The man took Mike into the giant’s cabin and closed the door. He then patted Mike down and took all the money in his pockets, which turned out to be about $2 USD. Luckily the bribe-seeking Kazakh did not find the money belt containing hundreds of RMB. Mike took the event in stride and laughed about what a crappy bribe the guy got away with as he snatched my passport back from the cop and quickly returned to our cabin. From there after, at every stop we would watch for guards and, if we spotted any, we jumped into our bunks like everyone else and pretended to be asleep.

Around 10pm the giant (he had acquired a shirt now, but had it unbuttoned) gave us declaration forms. He found a translator who asked us if we had any money, any at all. Obviously after the bribe incident we lied and said no. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. They said we had to write something so we listed the guitar and computer (after he asked several times if we had one). We later found out the “translator” was a guard who was trying to get close to us to find out how much money we had left, as well as what other valuables.

When we approached the border of Uzbekistan, Kazakh officials border the train and again asked if we had money. Again we said we didn’t. Having not slept or eaten in almost 24 hours our sense of humor was weaning. They made us open our bags (but did not notice three of our 5 bags so did not search them and only ended up looking in the most boring bag full of clothing). They did a swine flu check and inquired again if we had any money or valuables. We kept saying no, insisting that we were planning on using our credit card (I had a deactivated card to show them just in case they stole the card). After a ridiculously long search of everyone’s bags on the train minus those of ours hidden on the top bunk, we saw a young Russian boy of about 17 taken into the back room and frisked. He lost several hundred T. We saw another man walk right up to the Kazakh guard and put a wad of bills into his hand and then point at his bag and walk away. The guards did not search his bag. We saw the old man from our bunk hide a box under his bunk and a boy of about 20 kick a black bag out of site while being searched. As we rolled away from the Kazakh border I had the feeling that everyone was transporting something illegal except us.

Fifteen minutes later it was 4am and we were rolling into the Uzbek guard station. The people on the train seemed less stressed and said the Uzbeks were not as hard to get through. Everyone stashed their secret packages and the old man revealed, mid-stretch, that he had stuff taped across his entire midriff. The Uzbeks had a nurse come take our temperatures and check our passports while a drug dog went around and terrified everyone. This was the first drug dog of the trip. The Uzbeks were friendly and efficient but again only searched one of our bags. They took no bribes and did not intimidate anyone. After we rolled away from the border we arrived in Tashkent thirty minutes later.

Zoom!

The Statistics Are In
7 Cities
4 Trains
3 Countries
2 Buses
2 broken backpacks
1 Car
$ 464 USD Per person (3,175 RMB)*
11,896 miles
Shanghai to Tashkent
Twenty days

*20 Days of normal living in Shanghai = 3,573 RMB ($523 USD)

Cathederal

We arrived in Almaty, the former capital of Kazakhstan, at 6:00am after 36 hours on the train. We immediately realized how screwed we were when we tried to buy train tickets to Tashkent for the next day using charades, smiles and Pictionary-like drawings. We both studied Russian for the month before we left, and discovered that knowing how to ask someone’s name and where they are from is useless and unpractical, albeit friendly. Finally, I figured out that there was a train, from another nearby station, leaving at 5:12am the next day. I promptly bought two tickets for 12,000Tenge after speedily changing my RMB into Tenge at a nearby counter using a similar method of charades and Pictionary.
From the train station, we hopped in the back of someone’s car for 400T to So Young’s Youth Hostel. It was hardly 8:30am, but So Young was awake and set about making a nice breakfast of fresh peppers, bread, popcorn and tea. A New Zealander woke up and joined us, and a bit later a boy from Holland joined in. We discussed everyone’s travel plans and how So Young, a S. Korean native, had ended up in Almaty (logistics expert for rail transport).
While we have many legitimate gripes with The Lonely Planet guidebooks, the section on Almaty was decent and set up an 8k ‘walking tour’ through the key spots in the city. We decided to add ‘buy Russian phrase book’ to our to-do list for the day. We walked all around the city in honest awe of the cleanliness, greenery, modernity and friendliness of the city and debated settling here for 6 months or so to learn Russian in a comfortable and interesting metropolis. This is still a possibility, although we would also like to see what Uzbekistan has to offer.
We had a fine 6USD lunch at a bier garten and then walked to the city bazaar and mosque, as well as an old cathedral in the middle of Pavlov park. We walked to the cable car, but decided not to take it to the top because of impending rain clouds. An hour later it poured so ferociously that the streets soon filled with water. We ducked, quickly, into the town’s biggest expat bar in an attempt to meet a few locals to hear what they think of living in the city- but the bar was deserted. Dashing through the rain, we reached So Young’s and settled in for some quality time with the other travelers and So Young, and a nice evening prepping for our border crossing tomorrow and uploading pictures.
More from Uzbekistan soon to follow.

Top Five Things I Wish We’d Brought

Almaty

• More carabineers. So far, carabineers and rope have been two of the most useful items in my pack. On the 48 hour train we needed the rope to secure the guitar to my travel pack, I locked it in place with two of the carabineers. I used a third carabineer to lock the food bag to my pack. All of the carabineers are also lockable, so everything is secure and safe. If we had another rope and a few more carabineers I would have used the rope on the top bunk to construct a mini table to preserve space and to set the laptop on. Laugh all you want, but when you are confined to a bed that is only one foot wide adding a tiny rope table to put your bag on would make you smile from ear to ear!
• Face-soap. One of the most irritating things about getting ready for bed on a moving train is that it is hard to get out soap and wash your face because there is no where to put the soap down without losing it via slippage or getting it filthy. I wish I had brought some of those individually wrapped, pre-moistened face washing cloths that you can toss afterwards.
• Video-recorder. While this is bulky and we are already traveling with an excess of electronics, it would be nice to capture the absolute silence of Lake Karakul, or the breathtaking majesty of the Tian Shan Mountains.
• Lens-cleaner. Dust storms, sand storms, rain, hail, smoke and smog have all induced my camera lens into looking like a streaky, splotchy mess. The same goes for my glasses and sunglasses, and for Mike’s laptop screen.
• Less stuff. Our bags are too heavy and there are items in our bags we don’t actually need. We’ll be leaving a large portion of our stuff in Turkmenistan once we arrive.
Top five most useful things we brought
• Pillow. I am so happy I brought my pillow. I store it, when moving, in a compression bag so that it takes up very little space. Its made me so much more comfortable.
• Head scarf. Every woman on the train who isn’t Chinese is wearing one. I put mine on and it feels amazing, it holds my hair out of my face and keeps it untangled. Its also nice because it has stopped some of the staring.
• Laptop. While it adds extra weight, it is a real luxury to have a laptop along to get work done and also keep blogging and journaling. I discovered that I write very slowly by hand.
• Compression bags. While it makes for more space (and hence more weight in the bag) its great to be able to break down one weeks of clothing into a bag the size of a shoe box.
• Vitamins. We packed at least 1/8th of our bags with vitamins and medicine and already I’m glad we have the vitamins as the only food on the train is unhealthy and oily.

We took the 11:58pm train from Urumqi to Almaty, a 36 hour adventure across the Chinese border to Kazakhstan. Arriving early (as is my custom) we waiting outside a bit before being allowed into the terminal. You can only bring 36kg on board the train, and everyone’s bags were weighed, X-rayed and probed at the station. Once on board (car 5, room 6, bunks 23 and 24) we discovered that this was the nicest train we’d ever been on in China. The bunks actually left enough room for you to sit up straight and the hooks were facing up, instead of down and the toilet actually flushed! We fell asleep almost immediately and slept well because the rooms have doors (another improvement)!

At 7:00am I awoke knowing I should get up before we got to the border. I must have fallen back asleep because promptly at 9:00am a Chinese military official swung open the door to our room and motioned me off my bed. Thirty seconds later, when I was still blinking away sleep he came back and motioned again, a bit less humored than before. A second uniformed set of officers came in after the military cleared out. These men (in blue) collected our passports and put them in a metal briefcase and then sauntered off to a nearby building. After a moment, a third string of officials came through. These I did not recognize.

A Chinese official in white and blue walked up to Mike and held a small, white machine up to his forehead. It displayed a red dot directly above and between his eyes. Another official did the same thing to the woman across from Mike in her bunk. No one seemed perturbed by this. I was a bit terrified though, and when the guy came at me with the mystery devise I jerked back until he started laughing and pulled a thermometer out of the inside of the machine to demonstrate that he was only taking my temperature. Apparently (and, my guess would be from fear and paranoia) my temperature was a bit high. No kidding, officer?! He saw that we were American and then began to freak out a bit, he pulled out extra thermometers and made us stick them under our arms. The lady in our cabin motioned for us to remove them when he turned his back, so we did. When they came back they were at 36 and 37 degrees and then, suddenly, the officer spoke. I responded in Chinese and he nervously laughed, “I didn’t know you understood!” after a pause he added, “Excuse me, do you have the swine flu?” We said no, and a group of five officers showed up to listen to our story. We explained that we had been living in China since December and thus had not been in proximity to Mexico.

I’m impressed, honestly, with the way the government organized for mass border health checks including training the officers and explaining the origins of the flu. They did it professionally and quickly, and targeted the correct people for further inspection. I applaud. Its no small thing to halt a pandemic, and the government does away with PC measures to get stuff done.

After the swine flu check we had a baggage check. Here, I give a one thumb up, one thumb down. The Chinese guards only searched our bags and no one else’s. They made a big show of making us unpack every item in our bags. I suppose it is their job, but while we were showing them how an electronic toothbrush works the lady in our cabin was subtly kicking a duct-tapped bag under her bed. Whatever she was transporting was not 100% legit.

We finally chugged along only to stop five minutes later while they changed the wheels. Apparently Russian tracks are not the same distance apart as Chinese tracks, and this means all the wheels have to be replaced when entering Kazakhstan (also true with Russia and Mongolia).

Now to go through Kazakh customs. While the Chinese side had been entirely large, intimidating but finely groomed males the Kazakh customs officials were petite, gorgeous women in fish-net stocking, mini skirts and fluffy white blouses. A brunette came directly to our cabin and batted her big brown eyes, “You are American?” she asked. Mike nearly fell over himself as his jaw dropped and I responded, “yes.” She told us to give up our passports and show our bags to her friend, a red-head in a shorter skirt and more elaborate fish-net stockings. Mike responded with, “whatever you say!” and they walked away. However, after two hours of waiting, much to Mike’s disappointment they never came back. A burley alcoholic-smelling man came to return our passports and, after picking up new Kazakhs we headed on towards Almaty after one very successful and ultimately hassle free border crossing.

A Hospital

Having decided months ago to avoid going through Kyrgyzstan because of reported troubles foreigners were having at the Chinese-Kyrgyz border, we found ourselves last week in Kashgar. We took a two day trip out to Tashkurgan on the Tajik-China border which was apparently equidistance from Kashgar as the Kyrgz-China pass. We met two travelers from Australia (“Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oui, Oiu, Oui!”) who had already attempted the crossing once only to find the pass closed without explanation from either side. They tried again the next day and we never saw or heard from them again, which probably means they are in Kyrgyzstan. We have heard rumors across the traveling community that it is a difficult move to make, with a pick-up required at the border by a certified Bishkek or Osh agency. We decided while still in Shanghai to avoid the headache and simply backtrack. It was not until we got to Xinjiang that we realized the backtrack was over 24 hours in length and requiring a great deal more money that was amusing, as well as a bit more irony and, once again, we would find ourselves waiting in Urumqi (as we did for a week in 2006).

Having spent our last day in Kashgar walking around Old Town and then enjoying a fine dining experience at Fubar, our favorite home-away-from home in Kashgar, we hopped the daily 3:20 to Urumqi, an overnighter that lands in Urumqi at 3:30 exactly. Our train was running two hours early so they pulled off the tracks for two hours to arrive on time. Very efficient!

Back in Urumqi, we easily acquired tickets for the train on the evening of the 16^th. We were incredibly lucky. We bought a 3 day transit visa through Kazakhstan from the 17^th to the 20^th. Our midnight train put us at the Kazakh border at exactly 9am on the 17^th, we could not have planned it better if we had actually, ya know- bothered to plan.

In Urumqi between the 14^th and the 16^th we spent a peaceful and quiet few days in one of our favorite cities walking around the parks, eating local cuisine and relaxing at the hostel. On the 14^th we went, with a friend from the hostel, to the Uyghur Wuyi Night Market. We arrived a bit early and watched as everyone set up their mini stalls. A sudden and severe flash storm swept through the market, causing customers to hide in nearby stores (as we did) and vendors to pack up their raw meat and head home. The next evening, the 15^th, we went back to see what the market was like without lightening and terror and had a lovely meal of lamb, nan (bread), and kabab veggies. The 16^th rolled around quickly, and we packed and headed for our train eagerly awaiting our trip to Kazakhstan and our border crossing.

The Best and the Worst – so far.
Here are a list of the best places along the route and their contact information, we highly recommend these establishments and, unfortunately, received no knock-backs for passing on the good word.

Fubar, Kashgar branch.
This place is amazing! It is the only foreigner-run eatery in Kashgar, and their attention to detail meant that nothing was left undone. Here we dined on Pizza, Gin&Tonics and played board games. Conveniently located in central Kashgar, all the cab drivers know the spot. After multiple days in the desert, this oasis is worth the visit.

Kashgar Old Town Hostel.
This hostel was once a mosque, now converted into a multi-room dorm house with 6 or 8 beds per room. The Chinese youth who runs the place is a wealth of information and has great local contacts if you are looking for travel information. We definitely recommend staying here over the Semen Hotel, as rooms are 35RMB a night rather than 150. Meanwhile, the location is primo- a 5 minute walk from Edgar Mosque in central Old Town.

MaiTian Youth Hostel.
Located near Renmin Park in Urumqi, the Maitian youth hostel is a bit more rugged than others but for 40RMB a night it is passable. A bit pricey for what you get (6,8 bed gender-divided dorm rooms) the place has a decent location and is a wealth of information. The Chinese running the place seem hesitant to be helpful and are dismissive of any problems, but if you are a survivalist, this is a good spot to sojourn a few nights. Just be aware that the staff run this place like their personal club house and will be on the internet at all hours (rendering it useless) and screaming up and down the halls when they get on duty (promptly at 8).

Windows Scoreboard, Shanghai, China.
I am hesitant to write about this gem because I do not want it flooded with tourists. However, if you want a taste of home check out this hard-to-find windows location on HuaiHai lu (Near Sinan Lu). The lowest prices of any bar in China and a great atmosphere with a mixed crowd of Chinese, Thai, Western and African. A beer will set you back 10RMB.

The Worst:

And, sadly, here are a list of establishments to be avoided, and explanations as to why they definitely do not rock.

Fubar, Urumqi branch.

Old Mosque Youth Hostel

While the Kashgar branch rocks, this one is located on a bar street and competes with other, better equipped bars. Meanwhile, their serve a lousy pour, the staff are rude, loud and negligent, and the published address all over the internet is not correct. Meanwhile, they were without power when we arrived and had a noisy generated sitting, chained, to the front door as a back-up plan.

Silver (White) Birches Youth Hostel, Urumqi, China.
This shoddy establishment was hard to find and quite a jaunt from the train and bus stations, and from the airport. Once you finally arrive you will be disappointed by the piles of trash and dirt that occupy every corner, and the scurrying cock-roaches that act as permanent residents of the bathrooms and dorm rooms. The beds are hard and sheets and blankets are not guaranteed. Meanwhile, you will be close to a park, but nothing else in the city and will spend money on buses or cabs for transportation. Better to stay somewhere closer to downtown that is not infested with insects. Also, this hostel is in the running for ‘worst bathroom in China.’

Captain Hostel on the Bund, Shanghai, China.
This hostel, while nice enough, was massively overpriced. Located on the famous ‘bund’ are of Shanghai, we could not contest the price based on the better-than-expected location, but the service was horrible, there were few additional benefits like laundry, and the location meant a very noisy night. For one night, it was okay but we would not recommend multiple evenings here.

U-Cool Hostel, Shanghai, China.
While the lovely woman who runs the establishment is friendly and sweet, the hostel itself leaves much to be desired. The 6-8 bed dorm rooms are 40RMB a night and there is nothing in the way of additional services like a laundry facility, internet or a bar. We stayed here two weeks (out of necessity and because the owner, Anna, was very friendly, but we missed out on meeting new people and having entertainment. On the up side the location near the Bund was fantastic. Be prepared to spend your time in this hostel with Anna and her two sons as a partial baby-sitter.